


Piers and Emma continuation thingies!

by Claireton



Series: Piers and Emma pieces that I gone and done [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Alternate universe??? loominutty, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Inner Dialogue, POV Third Person, Regret, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claireton/pseuds/Claireton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This 'work' is going to be a collection of pieces that are sort of what I like to call 'Behind The Scenes' works between Piers Nivans and an OC of mine (and mebbe more) that operate within the universe of the super-duper-extra-awesomesauce story 'A Valiant Remedy' by Tafferling!</p><p>I've been writing and sharing these privately up to now, but seeing as Tafferling was so super extra incredible as to include my little ol' OC Emma in her actual story (eeeeee!), and to encourage me to do so, I decided that I would go ahead and post them for all y'all to read, if you be wantin'!</p><p>Though they are direct 'continuations' of a Valiant Remedy, I would advise not taking them as actually canon to avoid complications!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Aftermath (Chapter 12)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [a Valiant Remedy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702100) by [Tafferling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafferling/pseuds/Tafferling). 



> Thank you for coming to read! Hope you enjoy!

She was going to kill Piers Nivans. Kill him good. With his own gun, maybe.

_‘Yeah. Yeah that sounds really good. Maybe smack him around a bit with it first.’_

The entire reason she had insisted to come with him was so that she could _help_ look for Chris. So she could be with him and watch his back. But no. No, of course he wasn’t _actually_ telling the truth when he agreed to let her help. Because he was the big strong sniper soldier man and she was just some little porcelain doll who couldn’t look out for herself.

They had arrived the last day. Had been night so Piers found them this shitty little motel-thing that took a half hour to even register for because nobody in the fucking country spoke a lick of English. Their room smelled like many a prostitute-filled night and good old fashioned mold. At least the windows were dirty enough that nobody could look in, because the ‘curtains’ were essentially dyed tissue paper on a stick. Regardless, there had been promises in the night, while the two of them lay in bed, that first thing tomorrow morning he would wake her and they would go looking together. Along with the four other guys he brought. Because they were more trustworthy than Emma or something. Whatever.

And today when she had awoken she didn’t even need to turn around to see that he wasn’t beside her anymore. Lying asshole. But rather than sit around seething all day Emma had taken it upon herself to conduct a search of her own, for either Chris or Piers. For the latter’s sake, she had hoped she would find Chris. Instead, she had trudged in the freezing cold for hours on end, getting stared down by angry men and women alike while she struggled to discern what each building was by looking through the windows. She had even entered something that resembled a gift shop with the hope of finding an English speaking civilian. Instead she had been silently stared down until she just ended up leaving in embarrassment. And now she was dragging her numb feet through piles of snow just to make it back to the cesspool of a room that they shared.

For a town where absolutely nothing seemed to happen, there was a decent amount of cars rattling by. Old rust buckets that hacked and coughed up darkness behind them wherever they went. Just another left and then straight ahead for a few years until she could sit on the chunk of concrete with bedcovers on top. Maybe find a used syringe lying around to stab into Piers. Below the belt. Many times.

She passed a cluster of men outside some sketchy looking rathole. One flicked his head toward her to make his friends look. They mumbled something in whatever damn language they spoke and Emma hugged her jacket a little closer.

_‘Assholes.’_

To their own safety, they made no further actions toward her and she turned the corner, coming to the top of a street that looked absolutely no different to the one she had just left. She sighed and watched what was probably her will to live escape to the sky in a cloud of white mist. She was jealous.

More dull, lifeless buildings pulled passed while she walked. Might as well have been in a Tim Burton movie and she couldn’t tell the difference. She lifted her phone from her pocket, wildly out place in this drab town with its pink cover and cute little cartoon sheep wallpaper. No messages. No calls. No response at all to the million calls she had sent to Piers for the first half hour after waking up. Her numb finger managed to tap his name once more and she shoved the thing against her ear. The ear protested and stung with its red, probably frostbitten skin but she persevered. She could just convert all the pain into power later on.

It rang. And rang. And kept ringing. And even the phone became so fed up with Piers that it stopped ringing by itself before it was shoved back in her pocket.

_‘How much force would you need in one slap to knock someone out cold?’_

She neared a crossing. Hard to tell where they actual sidewalk ended because of all the fucking snow. Maybe she could just go ahead and get run down so Piers would _have_ to come to her and she could throttle him from her bed in the hospital. She made it one foot out before her eardrums were shattered by a blaring horn and the scream of suddenly stopped tires sounded from her right.

Her body froze, but her head turned with more calmness than she had and glared at the windshield of the white van. Tinted windows left her hoping that she was glaring right at whoever was behind the wheel. Yes, it _had_ been her fault, but with all the emotions already present in her there was simply no room for guilt or embarrassment any more. Before long the van started moving again and she watched it briefly before stepping across and finally entering the parking lot of her personal hell. The poor, innocent door was subject to her heartless glare while she approached. Something white that wasn’t snow on the door clung to her hand when she turned the knob, but once she entered she was far too focused on the anomaly perched on the end of the bed in front of her to care.

Piers sat, legs wide and elbows resting on the knees. His hands were clenched together tight in between and Emma couldn’t quite tell if he was staring at them or the floor behind them, but whatever the target, his rigid stare didn’t even break when Emma closed the door behind her. He was wearing the jacket Emma had seen him pack before they left, a dull green thing, except this time it was sprinkled heavily with whatever white stuff had been on the door handle. It coated his shoulders, climbed up to cover his neck, and still clung to his face and hair despite obvious attempts to smudge it away.

Every single negative emotion Emma had been filling evacuated in that instant to make way for so many others.

“Oh my-” she had to catch the quickly rising laugh with a hand her lips. Mr. Nivans did _not_ look ready to joke around.

She cleared her throat to eradicate the persistent giggle and moved over, falling onto the bed beside him and leaving snow in her wake. He didn’t so much look in her direction, but kept his eyes cast downward. He had gotten himself in many a sticky situation before being too nosey, but this felt different.

“Piers, what happened to you?”

No answer. No sign of life at all, actually. Not so much as a blink. Probably wanted to be left alone. Stir in his own self disappointment and anger.

_‘Not a chance.’_

“Piers, talk to me.” she let her left hand come to his thigh and sat it there, staring at the dust mingling with his hair.

_‘Is that flour? What on Earth?’_

More silence. Emma ran her tongue across her teeth.

“Pi-.”

“I had her.” he directed his quiet answer at the floor in front of him.

Emma’s eyebrows shot up and she leaned closer to look into his eyes much as she could.

“What?”

He stood then, abandoned her hand to the bedsheets and stepped towards the crappy little chest of drawers that held a dinosaur TV and a dingy little lamp. She thought he would turn the TV on, but instead he just stood in front of it, hands by his sides. Some of the dust had been disrupted by his movements and showered the lower parts of his clothes and the flour.

“I had her.” he repeated.

“The girl?” Emma wondered, standing and taking a step toward him.

“From the phone?”

“She knows where he is.” Piers continued talking to someone else. Perhaps his own reflection in the TV.

“But I…” his sentence died and Emma barely caught his hands balling up before he was alive with movement.

“That _bitch!_ ” his roar was accompanied by a hand sending the lamp shattering to the floor. Emma flinched.

Then his fist very eagerly met the wall and a jarring crack filled the room. Shitty thin walls.

“Piers!” she threw her hand to his heaving shoulder and stared at the hand.

“I had her..” there he went again. Barely a whisper this time while he fought back his own demons.

The hand retracted and left behind decently sized flecks of blood in the cavity it made.

_‘Oh Jesus.’_

“I know, Piers, I know.” his eyes finally turned to her. She knew the way they threw accusations at her wasn’t intentional.

“But sitting here breaking things and hurting yourself isn’t going to change what happened.”

He maintained the stare for a few moments. Went through paragraphs and pages of thought in a matter of seconds. Then his shoulders dipped and he looked away from her. Ashamed. Professionals don’t lose their temper. Professionals don’t let their emotions get so tightly woven into their work. Professionals catch the target and find their friends.

_‘Pick him up, girl. Get his head back in the game.’_

“Listen.” she turned him toward her. There was so much pain in his eyes she almost went to bandage them instead of his hand.

“We’ll get her again. We’ll find her, we’ll kick her ass and then we’ll make her tell us where Chris is, alright?”

No answer. Just more searching for his own self worth in her eyes.

“Tell you what. We’ll get her and you can watch while _I_ kick her ass. Guys are into that.”

There it was. The ghost of a smirk on one side of his mouth. It wasn’t going to graduate to a full smile, and some laughing was light years away, but it was a good foundation. Emma liked to fancy herself the only one who could lift him up when he _really_ got far down there.

_‘Probably would have gotten her if I had been there to help.’_

She banished that thought, locked it far far away in the recesses of her mind. Now was not at a time for _I told you so_ and _what if_. Now was the time when the man in front of her had torn himself apart and needed her tending while the pieces pulled back together.

“What do you say we save your snowman costume for Halloween?” she wasn’t sure whether to smile with her statement, and instead gave the substance a wipe with the thumb of her clean hand. Definitely flour.

The smirk dropped again and Emma’s heart followed, but she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t leave a moment for him to think and bury himself again. Her hand fell to his forearm and she dragged him back to sit on the bed. He watched her move over to her own travel bag and dig out a pack of baby wipes, along with one of those little travel worthy medical kits. Wouldn’t trust the water in the bathroom to wash a rat.

A normal, soft bed might have bobbed when she took place beside him again. This one was just kind of _there_ and didn’t do much of anything while she lifted a wipe and forced his face toward her with a hand around his jaw.  His right cheek was spared of its coating first. Then his jawline and the neck underneath. Already the stuff had formed a sickening gunk on the wipe and Emma cast it aside to take out another. She could feel his eyes on her as she went, could feel the thousands of words clawing desperately behind them to be heard by her. Things like _What if I never find her again_ or _This is hopeless_. More staring and a clean left cheek later and the words began drowning in the water that threatened to spill. She wanted to stop. To drop the wipe, grab him and kiss him and tell him it would all be alright. Let him cry it all out like she would. Like she had done before over other matters and he had held her and been the one doing the reassuring. But professionals don’t cry when they fail their mission. Professionals don’t cry into their partners’ shoulders until they feel better. Professionals don’t cry at all.

The wipe glossed across his lips. Not too far in between because baby wipes didn’t taste very nice at all.  Some more stubborn globs refused to be evicted and Emma went over them again, staring intently even after she was done.

_‘Now would be an awesome time to kiss. Just like a movie.’_

She stole a glance at his eyes. Not quite there just yet.

_‘Maybe later.’_

Another wipe and the only flour that was left was in his hair and on his clothes. Not much she could do there.

“You’re gonna need dish soap to get the flour out of your hair.” her mouth moved almost out of instinct, blurting out sentences absolutely not suited to the situation.

She unzipped the little medical kit and took out a travel handy bottle of disinfectant attached to a cloth, along with a roll of bandages.

“But make sure you condition it like _straight away_ because your hair will dry out and get all tangled and-” she finally forced her lips closed and shook her head. Not really the time for hair-care strategies.

“Sorry.” she mumbled.

While she separated the cloth from the bottle, she expected a scowl at her stupid commentary, but by the time she looked up the smirk had come back, stronger than last time. That made her smile too and she cleared her throat while dampening the cloth.

“This-well, it probably won’t hurt more than punching a freaking wall but..” now she let a smile accompany the words and lifted his hand. She heard a puff of air come from Piers. A laugh. Dripping with shame and embarrassment, but a laugh all the same.

She dabbed the cloth around and tentatively wiped away whatever blood surrounded the damaged skin. Her patient didn’t complain and so she assumed was doing a good job at it. Medical affairs had never been her strongest suit.

_‘Would this even need a bandage?’_

No point in asking Piers. Nearly guaranteed to insist he was fine. The wounds weren’t all that big but they looked angry.

_‘Better safe than sorry, I suppose.’_

She opened up the bandage and began her best go at wrapping it around his hand. Didn’t even make it three loops around before Piers’ free hand came to rest on hers.

“Uh, Emma. Maybe you should let me do it.”

After a pause, she swallowed her pride and nodded sheepishly, handing over the roll. She watched him, hands flying every which way and losing herself in the efficiency of it all before the roll was all gone and had been secured to his skin.

“I really need to take some first aid courses.” she pursed her lips and inspected his handiwork.

Another puff of air. The corner of his mouth pulled up further.

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

She shrugged her shoulders and looked over to the scene to in front of them. Nobody had come to inspect the sounds of abuse and violence going in the room. Probably used to it in a place like this.

_‘We need to get out of here for a while. Looking at that is just gonna make us both feel worse.’_

“So hey,” she looked back to him and plastered on the most candid smile she could manage.

“How about we try find somewhere we can get a bite to eat without actually needing to speak to the person selling it?”

A smile. A full one. Something she had thought out of the question only a few minutes ago.

“Sounds good.”


	2. Not so much amusement park (Chapter 16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers arrives at the site of the ferris wheel in Sadja's photo just a tad too late, and his frustration presents itself in a way he ends up regretting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of awkward, but seeing as these pieces were originally written with anyone reading them already having a bit of background on Piers and Emma, there will be a few details from time to time that might just seem out of the blue. For the sake of this chapter, it's semi-important to know that Emma is a stripper (though obviously she isn't working while she's helping Piers.)

“Spread out and search  _ everything. _ ” Piers barked.

The men nodded and loosed their varying degrees of  _ “Yes Sir.” _ -s before fanning out in all sorts of directions. Hunched over, carrying weapons, they disappeared in the darkness of the night and went to pick the place clean as ordered.

Emma held back a sigh while she watched them go. She watched with particular interest Miller, the one she had been seated closest to in the back of the vehicle that had brought her here. In the back with all the other lowly soldiers. While Piers sat on the front and drove with whatever the closest in command to him was. She hadn’t wanted to protest about it, though. Piers was here doing his job and looking for his friend and Emma had just tagged along because-

Because what? Why had she come?  Why had she bothered getting herself caught up in all this again?

_ ‘Because you love him. And he wants to find his friend.’ _

She rubbed at the exposed parts of her bicep against the night air. Probably should have been more sensible about attire. The frustrated young Lieutenant planted a few feet ahead of her was the only member of his gang left in sight, staring past some of the smaller stands and up at the ferris wheel with his fists clenched by his sides. Her mind tried to trace back and remember the last time they had actually spoken directly to one another. At least a few hours, before the car ride that had seen her thrust amongst a bunch of soldiers that seemed devoid of any personality.

_ ‘You knew this was what it was going to be like before you ever offered to come with him. Stop being selfish.’ _

It hadn’t been  _ all _ bad, she supposed. She had managed to coax a quiet conversation out of  _ Miller  _ (that was the response upon asking for his name and she had been too embarrassed to ask for a first name when they all seemed to deal in the second.). He had a wife, but no kids. They had gotten married just a few months ago in Spain. He had wanted to be in the military since he was a little kid. Apparently joined the BSAA because he lost a cousin to one of the attacks a few years ago.

_ ‘Poor guy.’ _

She rubbed at her arms again. Looked up to the accursed ferris wheel and then back down to the man staring at it. He hadn’t moved yet.

_ ‘Come on, girl. Support him. Get his spirits up. Do something.’ _

She watched her feet while they carried her to his side. Ground still had a few discarded junk food wrappers in it. She came up by his side and couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t spare a single glance at her.

_ ‘He’s focused. Don’t be selfish.’ _

“It’s kinda cool being in an empty amusement park.” she tried, forcing a smile to pull her lips and pointing it up at him. No response.

“You know, this one time when I was young, me and a few friends got like  _ crazy _ drunk and we-”

“Why did she bring him up there?” he cut her off with a question. Not that he was actually directing it at her. It was more of a way to say  _ “Shut up, I’m thinking.” _ without the cruelty.  She swallowed the rest of her story and looked back to the wheel.

_ ‘Don’t be selfish.’ _

“I haven’t actually seen the picture yet.” her statement made Piers dig a hand into his pocket. One swipe of the phone screen and it was already there when he was handing it to her. Not much of a surprise. His eyes had been glued to the photo ever since he had received it. So much that Emma had been worried to ask him to part with it long enough for her to see.

She took the device and lifted it up close. Just a girl and Chris on a ferris wheel. Chris looked a bit put off, but that seemed to be the extent of any kind of wrongdoing in the picture to Emma. 

“That’s it?” the words were already out before she even had time to regret thinking of them, much less speaking them.

Now Piers looked to her. Looked at her like she had just laughed and said  _ “Serves him right.” _ , or up and admitted to being the girl in the photo all along.

“ _ That’s it? _ ” he repeated, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Piers, Chris doesn’t look like he’s in any danger to me.” Emma stated, looking back down to the photo again.

“And she certainly doesn’t look as evil as you’re making her sound.”

Piers subject her to more staring that couldn’t quite decide if it was furious or confused before he just went and snatched the phone from her again. He looked over the photo himself once more before shoving the thing in his pocket. Started looking back to the ferris wheel and folded his arms, all scowls.

“Emma, just...just go walk around or something. Let us do our job.”

That hit her hard. She didn’t even know why. Maybe because she felt like she was right. Maybe because she had just spent three hours cramped in with a bunch of meathead soldiers. Or maybe it was because the man she loved was treating her like an irrelevant background prop instead of someone he loved back. Whatever the reason, it pinched her chest tight and tore her eyebrows down to a scowl of her own as she walked, even before she turned to him once more.

“Piers, you’re acting like an asshole.”

A pause. His eyes closed and he let out a heavy sigh. Then his head turned to her, eyes fierce and jaw locked in a way she had never seen directed at her before. The manner in which he stalked up to her, all rigid and soldier like, had something in her quiver a bit.

“I am trying to find my Captain.” his voice was low, a growl to it while he stepped into a distance that had formerly only been reserved for when they kissed. Suddenly the fact that he was taller than her was more intimidating than it was attractive.

“He is a member of the BSAA, and I am going to do  _ anything _ to find him.” he seemed to have managed to lean in closer. Emma’s hands coming up to push him back by the shoulders reversed that and then some. Something flashed behind his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to give any back to him. Because soldiers didn’t give any back to their superiors. But Emma was not one of them. And nor was Piers her superior.

“Don’t try to intimidate me Piers.” she returned his seething with equal gusto.

“I’m  _ not _ one of your soldiers.”

He worked up a puff of air. A laugh without the laughter. She wasn’t sure why it made her blood boil.

“‘Course not. Can’t expect a stripper to know anything about loyalty.”

She recoiled. Brain tripped over itself trying to decide if he had really just said that or she had imagined it.

No. He had definitely said it.

She wanted to keep being angry, because that what she deserved to be. She deserved to be furious, because how dare Piers say that to her and who the fuck did he think he was? Instead, the anger faded all too quickly and was replaced by a trembling that made her eyes water and had her coughing up involuntarily whimpers. Two hands to wipe at the fogginess clouding her vision and she found a wide eyed Piers. Not angry anymore either. Devastated. Maybe her tears had him realize what he had just said to her. Whatever the reason, he didn’t get to follow up before there were frantic shouts from his returned soldiers out of Emma’s field of vision. His eyes darted back and forth between situations, but Emma’s legs didn’t wait for him to choose before they were carrying her off in the other direction.

\----

It had been difficult to inspect the scene properly. Between worrying if Chris had been caught up in the fight, taking the missing Emma into consideration, and the time he spent wondering just what the hell those creatures on the ground were, Piers could safely say that they were not the most professional or focused few moments he had spent in his career. But Chris was out there, and for now they had no lead. Those-  _ things _ had a full team looking at them right now and would have another full team in less than a day. That left one thing to deal with.

He approached one of the stands that sold confectionary goods. Circled round and came through the back. Chocolate bars on a shelf and a powerless fridge with a few fizzy drinks inside. A sealed container of popcorn with a glass panel facing out to the main park. One would think that they would lock up their stock better, even if no one was supposed to be around after hours. Still, all the better for him.

He opened the top of the popcorn container and used the little shovel to scoop a hefty amount into the largest box he could find in the stall. Emma liked popcorn. Couldn’t watch a movie without it. Her favourite was actually the cheesy kind, but Piers had to work with what he had. So he turned to the lifeless refrigerator. She liked a good Coca Cola too. It wasn’t as cold as a running refrigerator would have made it, but the night air was cold enough to make it enjoyable. No chocolate. That was only for “special occasions.” (As in, when she thought nobody was looking.)

He placed the things on the counter and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. Twenty should be more than enough. It was stuck under one of the bottles in the refrigerator and Piers promptly abandoned the stall, goods in hand. Calling her name didn’t seem appropriate, not in the nearly solemn silence of the place, so he continued his search until at last the woman was found sat on the ground, back against the side of a shooting gallery game. Her knees were pulled up close, arms crossed over them and forehead resting atop of it all. Defeated. Miserable. Two words that should never have to be associated with Emma. Not if he could help it.

He walked over, looked down at her. No acknowledgement.

“Can-”

She jumped. Head snapped up to train her eyes on him. Black streaks ran from her eyes down the length of her face, some of them having suffered an attempt at smearing them away before their presence appeared to have been reluctantly accepted.

“Can I sit?” he finished.

Her eyes switched from his face to the items in his hand. She didn’t respond and instead replaced her head on her arms, so he took the opportunity to plant himself beside her and spill a few bits of popcorn on the way. He let his presence settle in before a heavy sigh preceded his first attempt.

“Emma, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Silence. A good few moments of it before she answered into her knees so quietly he had to lean a tad to hear right.

“I thought you didn’t care about my job.”

“I  _ don’t _ Emma, I just-” he stopped himself and let out another sigh.

“I  _ really _ need to find Chris, Emma. I’m sorry for what I said, seriously, I am, but, I just-.. I get so caught up in it and agitated that I just-” if his hands were free, he’d have been clenching them. Instead, he shook his head let out the third sigh in a row.

“I’m a jackass.”

Another pause, He watched the blonde tousles that splayed out from either side of her head onto her arms refuse to move.

“And?” they wondered.

One corner of his mouth dared tug upward just a tad.

“And an asshole.”

“Yes you are.” she pulled her head up again and immediately her hands were questing toward the goods in his hands.

“Gimme those.”

She twisted open the drink first, chugging the thing half dry in one go. A fistful of popcorn later and Piers’ brain registered for the first time the fact that she was only in a t-shirt. Taking off his own outer shirt and draping it around her when she briefly pulled away from the wall helped alleviate that. After a while, she even placed the dwindling supply of cold popcorn between them and allowed him to snatch a few for himself. Still, he didn’t feel  _ quite _ finished yet. Just one thing missing.

“So, while we’re alone, I wanna know how that story about you and your friends ends.”

She looked to him fully. Smiled a smile that reached her eyes, even if some sadness still clung to the edges of it. Always quick to forgive. Especially if there were offerings of food to be had. She swallowed once more and ran her tongue around her mouth.

“Well, me and my friends were  _ crazy _ drunk this one time….”


	3. Memories(Chapter 26-27)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers finally has his Captain back, along with an unwelcome guest, but Emma still thinks it's time he took a little breather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, thanks for coming to read! This chapter is supposed to 'take place' some time between chapters 26 and 27(hence that being in the chapter title.)

It had taken Emma a whole lot of convincing words and pleading to make Piers leave Chris’ side, but it had to be done, even if only for an hour. For so long finding Chris had been his driving force, the thing that got him up in the mornings and kept him up late nights. She had done her best to support every step of the way too, biting her tongue and smiling away the pain whenever he seemed to ignore her in favour of doing something more toward finding his Captain. He didn’t mean to do it, she knew. Didn’t mean to leave her feeling like a bag of sand having tied itself to his feet, even if he did from time to time turn around and thank that bag for keeping him at a pace that let him have his head straight.

No, he would never intentionally hurt her like that. He just had a one track mindset on the things he was passionate about and a habit of dedicating everything he had to getting them done.

And that’s why it was the perfect time to relax and celebrate a little(in _her_ opinion, anyway.) Chris was found, he was alive, and seemed to be coming back to terms with his life since. A night out was most certainly in order, and hey, that girl could come along too, provided she had calmed down a whole lot. Chris appeared to care for her and that was reason enough to try to get along with her. Even if Piers didn’t agree one bit.

Speaking of, he had been quiet on the whole drive into town. She put herself behind the wheel because even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was exhausted and deserved a little break. A _real_ break though, not just sending his body off with her to keep her quiet while his mind stayed floating around Chris back outside the girl’s room.

_‘Sadja. That’s her name. Sadja.’_

“So, anywhere specific you wanna eat?” she asked, just in time to pull into a parking place some short walk from the main collection of stores.

Piers continued his staring contest with the dashboard and shook his head.

“No...no, wherever you wanna go.” he mumbled to it.

Alright, so she didn't have his full attention yet. To be expected.

_‘Don’t sigh. Don’t make him feel bad for caring about his friend. Just take his mind off it for a bit.’_

Down came the vanity mirror from the roof. A quick look over her features and she was deemed acceptable for the outside world again.

“Well, let’s go!” she chirped. Maybe if she gave off enough good vibes he’d absorb some and perk up a bit.

The streets were fairly busy for the time, with the occasional person or two having streetlamps cast shadows around them until they entered the dark spaces between once more, likely on their way home.

Piers _did_ wait until she had circled round the front of the car and joined him on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets against the cold, so there was that. She wasn’t _completely_ out of his mind then. The walk began wordlessly while her mind went overtime to think of something to dissipate the silence. Eyes jumped upward.

“Oh look, a full moon!” she called to the stars, and turned back to her stony faced companion with a smile.

His eyes did go up to check, though they might as well have have been watching a documentary on drying paint for how much care they showed. Bless him though, he did throw his eyebrows up briefly in a silent _‘Wow, how really not interesting but I’ll pretend for your benefit!’_ gesture.

He usually liked how excited she got over the little things.

_‘Okay girl, maybe talk about what’s on his mind and just ease him away from it.’_

She rubbed her own hands together and threw her gaze over the Burger King some ways down the street. One of those 24 hour service ones it seemed, thankfully.

“It’s too bad Chris couldn’t come with us.”

That did earn her a smidge of interest in the look.

“I bet he’s pretty hungry too. You guys seem to forget every now and then you need to eat!”

The smile she gave was returned with a wispy, wry smirk, and then his attention was lost again.

_‘Okay, so not a time for joking. Try make him speak up a bit so he can't think as much.’_

“Well, we can just order something to go for him. Do you know what he’d want?”

A slow nod.

“I’ll order something before we leave.”

The warmth that attacked them the moment they opened the doors forced a sigh of pleasure from her. Most of the seats went unfilled, save for the occasional late shift worker or inebriated partygoer hit by the need for fast food.

Thanks to the pair of them making the only real visible signs of moment in the place, the walk up to the counter was just a tad awkward, with an otherwise taskless employee beaming at them all the way up.

“Hi, can I just get a chicken wrap, and…”

She turned her head to the man nearly glaring at the menu in thought.

“What do you want, honey?”

“I’ll take a double cheeseburger.”

Well, at least he had come out of his head long enough to make a decision. That’s progress, right?

“Please.” she threw in, turning back to the employee, because manners are always important.

The man at the register nodded, still holding the smile, and a moment later confirmed their order as twelve dollars.

After her card came out to bear the expense, Piers pulled out his phone and stared at it for quite a long time, considering it had made no sounds of notification.

Suddenly, a memory emerged. One formed quite a long time ago now, but one of those you never _truly_ forget, purely for the entertainment of it.

Her mouth split into a smile and a quick giggle blew past her teeth.

“Hey, remember that time a guy’s jacket got caught on the counter and his food flew all over the floor?”

A nod or two. His eyebrows climbed up just that tiny little bit but the eyes under them remained on his phone, fingers tapping away.

Okay then.

_‘Don’t get upset. He’s dealing with a lot of stuff right now you don’t understand. Just be there for him when he’s ready.’_

The employee returned with their orders and a quick thank you had them walking off to a window seat. It was dark enough outside that the windows very easily produced a clear, if off-coloured version of their own world for anyone who cared to look long enough. In _their_ world, for example, the girl about to take a seat wasn’t doing a very good job of looking like she wasn’t fed up, and the man about to do the same looked like he was hardly even aware she existed.

She felt sorry for them.

By the time Piers had settled into his chair, her teeth had already sunk into her wrap. It was pretty good, but the (sadly overdramatic) moan of pleasure she gave might leave some thinking it was treating her in other ways. Anything to try get his attention for more than two seconds.

He didn’t look up from his phone.

She swallowed a combination of her food and the barest pinpricks of sadness that had tried to latch to her insides.

“This is _really_ good.” she nodded at the wrap and took another bite.

A low, apathetic grunt and a tiny flick of the chin. His hand came out blind to grab his own burger and brought it to the mouth far below the unmoving eyes.

One more bite of her wrap, during which she gave him space enough to chew a chunk of his own food and swallow.

“Is yours good too?” she wondered.

 _‘Please say something. Anything. Tell me it’s awful, I don’t care, just_ **_talk to me.’_ **

He nodded.

It was a good thing his focus stayed on whatever on Earth was so interesting on his phone, because Emma thought she might look like he had just called her something along the lines of a fat ugly cow. The muscles in her face locked tight to fight back the quivering she could feel coming on, and her burning eyes instead penetrated through the world of the window and asked the moon for strength. Strength not to pool over, because Piers had enough on his mind without having to see her bawl because she wasn’t getting attention.

 _‘Don’t be so selfish. He’s going through so much and all you can think about is what_ you _want.’_

Then more memories came, but these were different. These were ones that weren’t welcome at all. The ones that formed a long time ago, before she had followed him across the world to find his friend. Back when his attention and displays of affection were things that became part of her daily routine, instead of things she had to earn. She should have remembered them with a light heart and a smile on her face, not a shard of ice and a mouth she was too terrified to move because she knew all it wanted to do was cough sobs into the air.

Piers offering her a bite of his food, the way he always would when she asked what it was like.

The way he used to perk an eyebrow and smirk when she was feeling cheeky and lifted a fry or two from his tray, because she never felt like asking for them at the counter but they looked too good to resist once he had them.

That night they had got the movie screening times wrong, so they just sat in the car for an hour and a half, staring up at the moon and talking while he held her tight against him

When he--

“You ready to go?”

Back to the present with a start. Eyes she felt hadn’t looked to her in years now watched expectantly. How long had she been thnking? At least she was too startled to look upset.

“Mhm.” she responded, because she didn’t trust her mouth to play along with words.

“Alright, I’ll order for Chris and then we’ll go.”

She had hardly finished nodding when he had taken her tray to stack on his own, then brought both to empty into the bin on his way to the register.

She took her post by the door instead. That way while he awaited his order her face could twist any which way it wanted before she had to snap back on her happy mask.

_‘He loves you, he just has things on his mind.’_

The fingers of her hand clenched.

_‘Things will go back to the way they were, have faith in him.’_

The door beside her opened and she sidestepped to let in a woman looking pissed enough to throw down with anyone who crossed her path. She passed the approaching Piers on her way up.

“Let’s go.”

He led the way back into the cold, paper bag clutched firmly in his hand. Just like all those times they had walked to the Chinese take-away across from her apartment and come back home for movie night.

Her teeth clamped down on the inside of her bottom lip. The cold was doing nothing to calm the threatening sting of her eyes.

The walk back to the car was silent, but certainly faster than the walk down. Piers stole ahead once she used the button to unlock the doors and climbed in like he couldn’t wait to be out of her company and back to Chris.

Circling to the driver’s side of the car was made just a tad more difficult with the way her eyes suddenly blurred over.

_‘Get it together, Emma. Once he’s back with Chris you can go off on your own and cry as much as you want.’_

She climbed in and shut the door, risking a quick glance at the face illuminated once more by the phone under it.

Aiming the key for the ignition was a bit of a struggle between the blurring in her eyes and her muscles starting to tremble like they always did when she was on the verge of tears.

One miss and she clicked her tongue.

A second one and she sighed. Shakily.

The third try was interrupted by the mouth she forgot to keep shut coughing up a high pitched sob.

She felt his focus snap to her before she could even lift her free hand to cover her mouth.

 _‘Oh, you’ve done it now haven’t you? Go ahead and add yourself to things he’s going to worry about, you selfish little_ baby _.’_

“Emma? What’s wrong?”

Her head shook like a paint mixer on the fritz.

“Nothing!” she made one last ditch attempt at sounding chirpy, even if she had to take a shaky breath before she could talk again.

“Let’s get you back to Chris!”

This time the key dove straight into the ignition. She turned it just as his hand showed up on her forearm and tenderly held it in place.

“Emma…” he trailed off.

The fact that he even noticed and cared was already enough to evict a few drops from her eyes to find a new home on her jeans. But when those overflowing eyes dared to go to his, and found them so full of concern, for _her_ this time, more sobs battled their way up her throat and left her struggling to stop long enough to apologize.

The sound of a paper bag hitting the floor barely penetrated her botched words, and the freed hand came to her back to pull her against him much as he could leaning over the middle, head resting on his neck.

“Hey...hey…” he spoke softly and brought a hand up to stroke at her hair.

“I’m--I’m so sorry…” she managed between the choking on her own breaths.

“You’re so busy and--and I’m being so _selfish_.”

He shushed her softly, hand still going back and forth over her head.

“You're not selfish, Emma. You’re the furthest thing from it I know.”

Her arms wrapped around him tighter, because she didn’t want this Piers to leave again and give back that stranger for company.

“It’s one of the reasons you’re so amazing.”

When she didn’t answer, not because she didn’t want to, his chest pushed her out and drew her back in as he worked up a sigh.

“I know I’ve been distant, Em, and I’m sorry. I _am_ . But I’m _so_ close to just having this whole thing be a part of the past. I can’t afford to let up now.”

An apology. An apology that somehow, by some divine power, made it all okay. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already known, nothing she hadn’t told herself so many times she could say it backwards in French, but hearing _him_ say it was different. It actually worked. It actually felt like the truth.

“I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

He managed to squeeze her tighter during a pause.

“I love you, Em.”

That felt like the truth too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
